


Bellamione Valentine's Day Shorts

by beforeyouspeak



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellamione Cult's Valentine's Event 2020, Blackcest (Harry Potter), Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Prompt play with Lys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22502854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforeyouspeak/pseuds/beforeyouspeak
Summary: A series of short prompts of Bellatrix and Hermione (and maybe some other Black Sisters)
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 20
Kudos: 305





	1. Borgin and Burkes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acautionarytale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acautionarytale/gifts).



> Two people meet in a shop one is there because it's their favorite one is there because it's their last resort. 
> 
> What trouble could Hermione and Bellatrix possibly get into?

Hermione could feel the glamour itching over her skin, but she couldn’t very well be spotted going into a place like Borgin and Burkes. While she really tried not to engage with her _Golden Girl_ reputation, there was something about it she rather liked. Not to mention she didn’t want to find herself in the pages of the Prophet. Letting Rita go was one of her few regrets from the war. She didn’t even like frequenting the store, but she had some very real questions about dark magic and they had the very best selection of old texts and accouterments.

The bell on the door rang loudly in the quiet shop as she entered causing her spine to stiffen. The wizard sitting behind the counter nodded at her, but there was no recognition in his eyes. She walked slowly around the perimeter of the store, though she already knew where the things she wanted were. Hermione allowed her eyes to dance over the many items on the shelves wondering what kind of dangerous magic they possessed. Some were so beautiful that she just barely managed to retrain herself from reaching out to touch them

She was broken from her reverie by the noisy bell hitting the opening door.

“I swear, Cissy, it will only take a few minutes,” a voice she knew all too well said from halfway through the door.

Hermione couldn’t help the light sheen of sweat that immediately broke out all over her body. Bellatrix Black, though pardoned, still haunted her sleeping hours. She was quite literally the last one she wanted to be in this particular shop with. Hermione attempted to move slowly and calmly back in to the book section, which was tucked away in the back of she shop. She couldn’t imagine that her luck was so poor that Bellatrix would be looking for books.

“Very well, Bellatrix. But I am not stopping. We will meet for lunch in an hour,” the blonde sister said sounding put out.

“Don’t pout, Cissy. Now you can go look at the dress you know very well I wasn’t going to stop for.”

Hermione could just barely make out their voices as she crept into the book section. She gathered all of her magic to attempt to add a notice-me-not spell over the glamour. Feeling confident that she wouldn’t be found, she turned her attention back to the books.

“Well, well, well... what do we have here?”

The husky near silent whisper over her shoulder caused Hermione to nearly come out of her skin.

“What are you doing in here muddy-kins? Sneaking around in a glamour is terribly _naughty_ ,” Bellatrix continued in the same quiet tone.

She lightly rested her hands on Hermione’s hips and stepped close to her.

“Does the cat have your tongue? Better, I suppose than having ears and a tail again,” she taunted.

Hermione spun eyes blazing to confront the witch.

“Those were private memories you looked at, when you were torturing me,” she hissed.

“Oh, so you do remember me fondly,” Bellatrix said moving closer again causing Hermione to back away. “I also seem to recall that you did not entirely object to our closeness.”

Hermione scoffed, but didn’t answer. The witch was not wrong. She had sought considerable help to understand why she had reacted to Bellatrix the way she had. The dark witch was beautiful in her madness. Before Hermione had landed under her on the floor of Malfoy Manor, she was infatuated with his best lieutenant. A woman who had risen through the ranks of men and ruled over them. And the way she had looked at her in the Department of Mysteries. Hermione felt her cheeks redden at just the memory. It wasn’t sexual then, but the witch had seen all the way through her in a way she had never experienced. And it made Hermione want.

“I knew I had intrigued you that day.” Bellatrix couldn’t help preening at the memory. “A little bit of hero worship for the big bad death eater. And maybe a little something else?” The dark witch stepped back enough to cast a few spells closing the door to the small room and warding it. “It is just us girls, after all. What can’t you tell, little old me?”

Hermione felt the flush creep down her neck.The question alone brought all of the fantasies she had so diligently fought out of her mind flooding back.

“I am glad that after all these years, you haven’t forgotten me. I too tried to not think about how drawn I am to your dirty blood. But in this new world, such things are not quite so unseemly.”

“How romantic,” Hermione spat. “I’ve so longed to be a last resort.”

“Who said that,”Bellatrix closed on her. She leaned into her and placed a hand flat on her chest just below her neck. “I have never coveted anything as much as I have you.”

Hermione looked into the dark eyes looking for truth. When she found something resembling it, she lunged for the witch. She grasped her collar and brought their lips roughly together. She kissed her as though neither of them had any use of oxygen.

“Damn you,” she said shoving the dark witch back until her back was against the door. “You are a demon who haunts my dreams. No one else was ever good enough.”

Bellatrix pulled the irate witch closer to her and kissed her again.

“I’m not sorry for marking you,” Bellatrix mumbled against her lips.

Hermione threaded her fingers into the curls at the base of the witch’s skull and wrenched her head backwards.

“God damn you,” she said scraping her teeth down the pale neck before nipping.

Bellatrix moaned at the roughness. Hermione pushed harder against her.

“What is it, little one,” Bellatrix groaned. “Do you want to mark me as much as I marked you?”

Hermione fumbled her hands up under the voluminous skirts. She moaned when she found a distinct lack of panties.

“Fuck you,” she grunted and pushed into the wet heat.

“Yes,” Bellatrix groaned. “I loved waking every day knowing that you bore my mark.”

“I hated you everyday,” Hermione growled.

“Until you didn’t,” the older witch gasped.

“Yes. Until I didn’t.”

Hermione lost steam at the admission.

“Don’t you dare stop, Hermione,” Bellatrix snapped. “Show me you are powerful. That you don’t wilt in the face of a challenge.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Hermione renewed her rhythm. “I am not your’s to possess.”

“And yet you’ve been mine all along,” Bellatrix said reaching out and touching her as she had longed to for well over a decade.

Hermione pushed her face into the crook of her neck and pumped her hand harder. Bellatrix placed a hand gently on the back of her head, cradling them together.

“Yes, just like that,” the dark witch moaned.

Hermione couldn’t help but push the witch closer to completion. She wanted to feel the muscles contract around her fingers and for the witch to crumble for her.

“Give in to me,” Hermione says biting her neck hard.

The combination of the taboo, pleasure, and pain made the stars explode behind Bellatrix’s eyelids.

“Allow me to court you,” Bellatrix sighed into Hermione’s ear while holding them close together.

“Why would I agree,” Hermione grumbled but clung to her still.

“Because I have seen your fantasies and had years to plan.”

“You get one chance, Bellatrix. Do not fuck it up.”

“Don’t worry, love. I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bellatrix said with a wink pulling her skirts back into place. “Come have lunch with me.”

“Oh,” Hermione said awkwardly, “but I was looking for a book. I...”

“I have the biggest private library in wizarding Britain,” the dark witch muttered under the guise of false modesty.

“Fine. But don’t think this means I am easy.”

Dark laughter bounced off the walls as wards were released and the door swung open.


	2. Se Vuoi Pace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I lied gently. This chapter is Bellatrix/Narcissa. 
> 
> The prompt is an aria from Handel's opera Agrippina : "Se vuoi pace, oh volto amato, l'odio reo fuga da te." or roughly in English "If you want peace, beloved, you must let go of hatred".

Narcissa gazed lovingly at the rain soaked warrior on her doorstep. The world had not been kind to her. Not since the crumbling of magical Britain under the weight of civil war. When the Dark Lord had fallen, they had lost so much. Death lingered in the ranks of their loved ones. Both their husbands and even Draco had perished in the conflict. After fighting for more than 30 years, Bellatrix broke down crying in her baby sister’s arms.

A few hours later, they had packed the most precious of their things. The Black family had long had an escape route planned in the event of needing to defect. A dusty old portkey would take them to a new life. Their mother and father, before their deaths, had told them that everything they would need would be waiting there should there ever be a need. But there was a price for choosing a new life. The secret keeping wards could only be activated once. While not impossible magic to break, it was not a simple holiday.

They stood close together loosely intertwined as Bellatrix took the portkey into her palm and whispered the words that activated the magic. They landed in a grove of trees over looking snow capped mountains with beautiful outcroppings of rocks. A few yards away was a modest farm house. For the first time in months, Narcissa felt like she could breathe. She nearly swooned at the relaxed look on Bellatrix’s face. She could practically see the possibilities blooming in her sister’s eyes.

“Come, Cissy,” Bellatrix urged. “Let’s go in.”

Narcissa clung to her sister. In part, she could barely believe that they had done it. They had escaped. While it was a shock to her system, she couldn’t imagine that there was anything she would miss. She knew full well that their grief was fully transportable and that nothing aside from Bellatrix was precious any more.

Though a little dusty, the interior was charming. Exposed brick and wood beamed ceilings were the opposite of the grey stone walls they were accustomed to. The furniture was rustic, but in good condition. The clear Italian style felt more like home than Narcissa would have guessed.

“There is only one bedroom,” Bellatrix said after a few minutes of exploration.

Narcissa paused and looked at the witch in front of her. There had always been an undercurrent between them. Their love and devotion was beyond sisterly affection, though there had never been a physical element. And now, there were no prying eyes or gossip columnists to worry about.

“Why would we need more than one,” the blonde asked innocently.

“Narcissa,” Bellatrix hissed through a clenched jaw.

“Let me be clear, Bellatrix Black.” Narcissa drew close and cupped Bellatrix’s face adoringly. “I will be sharing your bed. It wouldn’t have mattered if there were a hundred bedrooms in this house.”

“Cissy,” the dark witch whimpered in conflicted want.

“Se vuoi pace, oh volto amato, l'odio reo fuga da te,” Narcissa quoted her favorite aria. “Darling, if you want peace, you must let go of hatred.”

“I don’t know how,”Bellatrix practically growled.

Narcissa brought their faces close together, so that the witch could look no where else. She searched the dark eyes before leaning forward and gently pressing their lips together. It was nothing but a brush of soft skin, but it felt like everything.

She drew back enough to take in the sharp planes of Bella’s face. The look was less morose than it had been, which made Narcissa want to kiss her again.

“I think you will figure it out,” the blonde prodded. She didn’t mind leading the witch into the change, but she had no desire for Bellatrix to suddenly become a follower. She was pleased to see the spark of fire in the lovely eyes.

Bellatrix reached out and pulled Narcissa to her less than gently. “I am not Lucius. I am not your’s to manipulate.”

Narcissa melted into her arms.

“I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are.”

She watch Bellatrix hoping that her intent would be understood. When red lips covered her’s possessively. It was no sweet brushing of lips, the dark witch clearly had intent to claim.

“One bedroom,” Bellatrix said between kisses.

“Yes,” Narcissa moaned quietly as the kisses moved down her neck. “We only need one.”

A sound near a purr gently vibrated against her collarbones.

“Show it to me,” Narcissa whispered nearly begging.

“You think I should have you in a bed the first time,” Bellatrix teased. “There is a rather nice kitchen table I think you would look lovely bent over.”

Narcissa flushed a deep red at the suggestion. There was little she wouldn’t do if it pleased the witch in front of her.

“Bella,” she whined.

“Come along, Narcissa.”

Bellatrix intertwined their fingers and led her through the house. Narcissa saw nothing about their new home. She saw only the flexing shoulder muscles and the bouncing curls. If she was entirely honest with herself it was the most beautiful things she had ever seen. When the reached the door way, a familiar beloved face glanced back at her. In that split second she saw nerves, desire, and so much love she nearly came apart at the seams.

Once they were across the threshold, Bellatrix brandished her wand illuminating candles and closing the door behind them. The room itself was so quiet that Narcissa’s ears were filled only with the stuttered breaths of her soon to be lover.

“Come here,” the blonde said at the hesitance and held her arms open.

Bellatrix fit their bodies neatly together and inhaled deeply the comforting scent of Narcissa’s perfume.

“I have wanted you for so long. I can’t remember a time I didn’t want you,” the dark witch confessed allowing her hands to begin to take in the curves beneath them.

“Always,” Narcissa whispered into curls, perfectly happy to let Bellatrix explore. “I’ve always been your’s.”

Bellatrix hummed her agreement and brought her hands to the clasps of Narcissa’s outer robes.She carefully pulled it off and tossed over the chair in the corner of the room. Narcissa raised one pale eye brow, which caused Bellatrix to hastily magic away their dresses. She was satisfied with the sharp intake of breath at the action.

“Bella,” the blonde shuddered at the cool air against her skin. She was grateful to have worn such nice underwear, though she hadn’t woken imagining anyone else would see it. Warm eyes trailed the length of her body.

“You are so beautiful,” Bellatrix’s voice ghosted over her skin. “Even more than I had imagined.”

“And you, my warrior are glorious,” Narcissa said stroking firm stomach muscles. Bellatrix had scars that mapped her past battles. She gently dug red nails into sensitive sides making the dark witch gasp. Narcissa released her enough to climb backwards on the bed. She watched with rapt attention as Bellatrix took off her underwear before climbing over her.

“Bella,” she whimper as she could feel the heat from her body hovering over her. She lifted her hips as fingers tugged down her panties. She shuddered for breath as a leg pushed between her open legs and pressed teasingly against her center. Magic tingled around her as her bra disappeared.

“Cissy,” Bellatrix moaned at their bodies connecting. “You feel so good underneath me.”

Narcissa grunted her ascent while anchoring her hands in curls and bringing their lips back together. She needed to feel Bellatrix in her very soul. The dark witch kissed her deeply as though listening to her thoughts. The intensity and intimacy of their position hit Narcissa squarely in the gut. She knew that when she was finally touched that she would be dripping with need.

Bellatrix broke the kiss to stare down at her for a long moment.

“There can never be anyone else. I won’t share,” she said keeping their bodies still but touching.

“Oh Bella. If I have you, I will never want another. Had you been an option, no other would have ever touched me. Make me forget anyone ever did.”

Dark eyes flashed dangerously making Narcissa shudder with desire. Aggressive Bellatrix Black was a beautiful thing.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you, Cissy.” Her tone was threatening and so very attractive.

“I can’t imagine objecting to a single one. Please touch me, love. I need you desperately.”

“You know I do love you,” Bellatrix asked running questing fingers over stiff nipples.

“Fuck,” Narcissa gasped at the content. “Yes. I know. And I love you more than any other.”

Bellatrix hummed her agreement, ducking her head to take a nipple in her mouth. She tongued it before nipping hard enough to make Narcissa’s body jerk up into her’s.

“I don’t have the patience to be gentle with you. I have wanted this and you for too long. I want to be inside you and stretching you.”

Narcissa whimpered, not entirely sure what Bellatrix had in mind, but certain that she wanted it desperately.

“How long has it been since you have had someone in you,” the dark witch growled.

Narcissa felt the possession in the tone slither over her skin causing her to pause before answering.

“Years,” she finally said. “Before Draco went to Hogwarts. I had an inkling then that your freedom would be possible. I had no time to put energy towards anything else.” Her quiet confession was loud in the silent room.

Bellatrix moved to the other nipple skipping over the gentle initial movements causing Narcissa to shout her name. Through the haze of adrenaline and arousal, Narcissa felt a spell muttered against the sensitive skin of her chest. Lips worrying the skin up her neck distracted her from reacting to a growing hardness against her leg.

“Bellatrix,” she moaned. “You feel so... big.”

Bellatrix cackled. “Did you expect anything less?”

“No,” Narcissa panted as Bellatrix settled herself properly between Narcissa’s legs opening them wider.

“Will I be your biggest,” the dark witch sounded far too pleased with herself.

“Oh, yes,” Narcissa confirmed and cupped her lover’s face. “I will no doubt be rather sore for a few days... and thinking of you constantly.”

Bellatrix smirked and kissed her hard again. For the first time, she allowed her magic to brush seductively against Narcissa’s. The blonde shivered beautifully beneath her. She ran her magical cock against the soft wetness of the blonde’s center, struggling to restrain herself. She was desperate to be inside her, but refused to act like a teenage boy. In order to fuse their magic together, Narcissa would need to be receptive and collaborative. She was pleased when Narcissa’s magic reached out to her’s.

“You are mine,” Bellatrix husked as she pushed slowly in.

“Your’s,” Narcissa agreed canting her hips to meet the movement and willed her magic open inviting Bellatrix in.

The dark witched pushed firmly into the acceptance until their bodies were flush against each other.

“Fuck,” Narcissa groaned. “You feel so good.” She felt stretched to capacity physically and emotionally. She knew her climax would result in tears and very likely a magical bond.

Language escaped Bellatrix entirely. She had been drawn into the blonde’s magic and was surrounded by warm heat. She could think of nothing but claiming the witch stretched so willingly beneath her. She established a punishing pace, which had the blonde squirming in pleasure beneath her.

“Please, love. Please,” Narcissa chanted scoring her nails against the firm muscles of Bellatrix’s back.

The encouragement was all that the dark witch needed to push further into her magic. She brought their bodies more firmly together and focused all her intentions on joining them together. When Bellatrix finally felt the crescendo rising in Narcissa, she roughly bit the fleshy juncture between Narcissa’s neck and shoulder. The resulting scream paired with clamping muscles and the taste of copper in Bellatrix’s mouth caused a riotous climax to rip through them both. 

They collapsed together boneless surrounded by the smell of magic and sex. Narcissa clung to Bellatrix reveling in feeling complete in ways she never had before. After long minutes, Bellatrix shuffled to her side and pulled Narcissa to her. The blonde happily relaxed in the secure hold, finally closing her eyes in peace.

“What do you think our new life will be like,” a rough whisper roused her some time later.

“I think we will drink too much wine and eat pasta. I will want to redecorate and you will need a hobby. We might just have a quiet life for once.”

The dark witch hummed sounding satisfied. “And I am going to have you in every way on every surface.”

“That too, Bella dear. Rest now. We have plenty of time.”

And for the first time, they did.


	3. Vieni, oh cara, vieni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellatrix/Hermione
> 
> Prompt from Doc:   
> Hermione has a nightmare about the war and doesn't wake, the person next to them rubs/soothes their body until they calm with magic
> 
> Possibly a little non-con. You've been warned.

Going back on the run after the incident at Malfoy Manor was soul wrenching. While they had successfully destroyed the cup stolen from Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault at Gringotts, they didn’t have a map for where the other horcruxes were hidden. Having been found once by snatchers, they had vacated the Forest of Dean permanently. They needed time to recuperate and had a strong suspicion that Hogwarts might hiding a horcrux or two.

As they couldn’t just walk up to the gates or be seen anywhere in magical Britain, they had moved to Rothiemurchus Forest in Scotland. After a week of scouting, Hermione had found ruins of a castle in the middle of a loch. She had immediately known they finally had found a defensible position. It was not terribly hard to convince Ron and Harry to set up a more permanent base. They were both looking for anything that felt like home.

The castle ruins had enough walls standing that the could nestle the tent into the corner and further shelter themselves from the weather. Using the odd collection of wands they had captured, they repaired the structure enough to make use of the hearth at night when no one could see the smoke. Hermione spent long days spinning wards that would be more permanent protections. One caused Muggles to walk in the opposite direction, one prevented apparition by anyone who did not contribute to the blood ward, and yet another made the small island perpetually surrounded by mist. The task had bonded her far more than she had expected to the crooked wand. It liked the blood warding and complexity. It made her magic buzz almost painfully beneath her skin.

From their little island, Hermione, Ron, and Harry could venture fairly safely to the muggle world. They had been able to procure the kind of supplies needed for a loner stay. With a few more comforts they were able to begin the work of finding a way of really ending the war.

None of their preparations or back up plans meant that Hermione felt safe enough to really sleep. Nightmares were a nightly occurrence. Sometimes she relived the horrors of reality. Other nights familiar faces swirled in terrifying situations that were nonsensical. So more often than not, she volunteered to take the late watch where night gave way to dawn.

As she did most nights, she sat on the edge of the ruins watching the water lapping against the rocks in the moonlight. Tonight, it was mild and she was able to lounge comfortably with a light warming spell. She sat with the wand clutched to her chest protectively. In the late hours, she needed it close. She let her eyes close and she listened carefully to her surroundings. She knew that she would hear an approach as quickly as see it in the poor light. Her nap earlier had been less restful than usual, so keeping her eyes open was getting harder. She relaxed into the sounds that were becoming home unaware that her breaths were evening out as she slipped into slumber.

* * *

Bellatrix slipped silently on to the shore. She had been watching the trio of teenagers come and go for a week when she could slip away. She wasn’t exactly following her Lord’s orders. She didn’t really want to capture them, though she certainly would if given the chance. She just needed to see the witch that she couldn’t stop thinking of. It didn’t help that she knew the little mudblood had literally been inside her skin and vault. It was a deeply intimate invasion of her privacy. Not to mention the lingering pull of the spells started when she straddled the witch on the floor of the manor. If she could lure the girl away under her own free will, her lord had promised she could keep her.

With a wand that was adequate but nothing special, Bellatrix warmed herself and cast the water out of her clothes. She felt the wards give way and tensed ready to be attacked. After a few moments of complete quiet, she heard rustling a few yards away and a pathetic whine. She moved silently over until she could see the twitching body of the witch she thought of with great frequency. She sat close to the prone witch, who was clearly consumed by the demons in her head.

Bellatrix nearly jumped out of her skin when the witch turned her face into her skirts and curled around her. But she couldn’t resist the urge to touch her again. She ran gentle fingers across her brow and through her hair. At her touch, the witch settled some. Bellatrix noticed _her_ wand clutched greedily against the girl’s chest. She wondered, not for the first time, if the mudblood had been experiencing the same type of draw.

It started innocently enough, reaching out her magic to the witch now snuggling into her. However, there was nothing innocent about how their magic interacted. Bellatrix did everything she could to tamp down the heat traveling through her. The need to _have_ the girl was nearly consuming. She channeled the magic across the prone body beside her.

She guided her magic, which felt more corporeal than ever, down the witch’s body. She could practically feel the hard nipples against her palms as she allowed her magic to manipulate the warm flesh next to her. She was irrationally pleased when the girl groaned and her legs fall apart.

Bellatrix knew an invitation when she saw one. She sent her magic slithering down the tone stomach to the juncture between the witch’s legs. Watching the button unclasp and the zipper lower was gratifying. She felt powerful as she gently guided her magic beneath flimsy underwear. She gasped at the wet heat that met her. Her hands paused their movement as she became overwhelmed.

“Merlin, please don’t stop. I haven’t had a good dream in ages. Please,” Hermione mumbled without opening her eyes.

Bellatrix was never one to deny a lady what she truly wanted. She returned to sifting her fingers through the soft tresses. She let her own eyes drift closed as she reached out with her magic setting to explore the soaking folds while setting a steady rhythm.

“Please, Bellatrix. It isn’t enough. I need more than just your magic,” Hermione said looking up at her plaintively.

The dark witch’s mouth dropped open. She didn’t know how to respond. She hadn’t really had much of a plan when she started swimming across the loch.

“It’s ok,” Hermione said gently touching the hand in her hair. “We can figure it out in a few minutes. But right now, I need for you to do more than just tease me.”

Bellatrix considered how they might deal with it, but the pleading brown eyes and prone body were enough to convince her to put it off. Skipping over the niceties, she slipped her hand down the open fly and into heat. If anything the witch was wetter than she had been able to feel with her magic. Bellatrix was beyond being interested in foreplay and slipped two fingers into the witch. The mudblood was nearly painfully tight. The gasp at her entrance made her magic flare in possession. She set a demanding pace knowing they were in the open and her wand hand was fully occupied. The dark witch was pleased when eyes slammed shut and mouth opened in a silent scream. The accompanying waves of clenching muscles around her fingers made her feel intoxicatingly powerful.

“Fuck,” Hermione murmured fighting to open her eyes. “Are you real?”

“Extremely,” Bellatrix said tersely. “Are you going to point my own wand at me?”

Hermione looked like she was thinking about it, but still held the wand protectively.

“I’ve bonded enough to it, I could,” she said attempting to sound certain of that fact.

“That shouldn’t be possible,” Bellatrix said thoughtfully.

“And you shouldn’t have been able to get through my wards,” Hermione answered sharply.

“Yet here we are, pet. This is one hell of a stand off. So what will it be?” Bellatrix began taunting. “Would you like for me to start a duel now? Even with my wand you won’t be able to best me.”

Hermione looked to the heavens looking for reason. “No. I have no desire to fight you. Though I should... for so many reasons.”

“Your side isn’t going to win, girl.” Bellatrix knew it wasn’t subtle, but that just wasn’t one of her gifts. “You have had your little hide out, but you’ll have to leave it now. There is no corner of the Earth you can hide in that I won’t hunt you down.”

“And the alternative?” Hermione was afraid to ask, but on so little and after everything she could barely stomach the idea of a life on the run.

“Come with me. I can make a show of kidnapping you if you need that. I will protect you.”

Dark eyes were passionately on Hermione’s face as she spoke. It made Hermione want to ask why, but there was obviously something in magic between them. The evidence was damning.

“If you kidnap me, far too many people will get hurt or die trying to rescue me,” Hermione sighed. “I will leave a note.”

“Bring anything you want to have.There is no coming back.”

Hermione nodded. She had figured as much. She would leave them everything that was essential. When they found out (and she knew they would eventually), they would not understand what she had done. But the moments of peace in the closeness were something she thought she would never have again.

Bag in hand, she emerged and walked up behind the silhouetted figure looking out at the water.

“I hope you are ready for a cold swim,” Bellatrix said without turning her head.

Chuckling, Hermione slipped her arm into Bellatrix’s and forced the pull of apparition through them both.


	4. The Fine Print

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione/Narcissa
> 
> Prompt from Doc:   
> Hermione is MoM and needs a ritualist, an obscure and nearly defuct sect of witchery that was once banned pre-Harry defeats Voldemort. Only the previous dark families would know much about them, but Hermione is determined to get a ritual for good luck to pull the current corrupt ministry officials out of her Ministry.
> 
> I only sort of followed it.

Hermione was aware that her appointment to Minister of Magic was a little too easy. The moment she took up the mantel, she could see the storm clouds brewing. She hadn’t imagined that the ancient magics at work would be so vastly outside of her understanding of magic. Her first meeting with the head Unspeakable was mind bending. And more than a little concerning.

It seemed that the magical world as they knew it was at a tipping point. There were ancient dark forces at work that could only be controlled by a ritualist. Frankly, Hermione didn’t even know their was such a thing any more. Professor Binns had led them to believe that such roles were long dead. From that moment forward, Hermione had put the topic from her mind. To be told on her first fucking day that magic would begin to collapse without a skilled dark ritualist was a few steps beyond frustrating. What the literal fuck had Kingsley been doing all those years?!

The Unspeakables had been kind enough to provide her with a list of potential candidates. Initially, she had been thrilled until she actually looked at it. It was filled with the top echelon of pureblooded matriarchs. While the war was a decade in the past, bigotry was still rampant and the Unspeakable had been clear that whomever she hired would be a long term employee and would work with her quite closely.

She quickly removed the Bulstrodes, Parkinsons, and Carrows from the list. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how she would tolerate work in near proximity of any of them. She felt a sense of relief wash over her at finding Andromeda Black Tonk’s name on the list. It was easy to forget that Andy was a member of the Black Family. Not wanting to waste a moment of precious time, she walked over to the fireplace and placed a fire-call.

“Hermione, is that you? What a surprise,” Andy sounded pleased as always when it came to Hermione.

“Hi, Andy,” Hermione began bashfully. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around...”

“Perfectly alright, Hermione. You are the Minister of Magic after all. I know you must be busy. What can I do for you?”

“I am in need of a _ritualist_. I’ve been told it can only be someone from the ancient families. Your name was on the list and I was wondering if I could coerce you into working for the Ministry,” Hermione said in a single breath.

“Oh my,” Andromeda certainly sounded like she knew how serious things were. “That is a rather urgent matter.”

“Please, Andy. I need someone right away.” Hermione really wanted to close on this, so that their work could begin.

“Oh, Mione. I really wish I could help you, but I am not the ritualist in my family. The skill is only passed to one daughter. I was not the one chosen.”

Hermione’s heart dropped. Neither of the other two Black Sisters were ideal choices.

“Do you know Narcissa? I would be happy to introduce you formally,” Andy offered seemingly unaware of Hermione’s anxiety.

“I... I haven’t been introduced to her recently,” Hermione found herself answering truthfully. Narcissa was not ideal, but she was starting to feel very lucky that it wasn’t Bellatrix.

“Clear your schedule for tonight,” Andy said.

It didn’t really sound like an invite, but rather a command.

“Ok,” Hermione found herself agreeing.

* * *

Meeting Narcissa again had been a surreal experience. Much to Hermione’s surprise, the beautiful face held none of the contempt it once had. Instead the blue eyes sparkled with genuine interest and lingered over her at every opportunity. Being the meddler that Hermione now knew her to be, Andromeda had abandoned her to a dinner with the blonde without much explanation.

Hermione was grateful to discover how brilliant and pleasant Narcissa was to be around (when not on the opposite side of a war). She even managed to get Narcissa to agree to take the job. It had almost been too easy to get her to agree. But Hermione couldn’t imagine working with anyone else from that list, so she decided not to be overly critical of Narcissa’s willingness to help the ministry.

In retrospect, she really should have asked more questions or done more research before jumping into a ritual she knew nothing about. But the concern from the Unspeakables was keeping her from getting a good night’s sleep.So when Narcissa had told her that she needed to be present for the ritual, Hermione agreed without delay. After all, she didn’t want her legacy to be the down fall of modern magic.

On a snowy bleak night in mid-February, Hermione allowed herself to be led by Narcissa to Stonehenge. She was shocked when they came out of apparition at the site. Had it been slightly less majestic in the light of the full moon, she would have certainly said something snarky about it. But Narcissa’s hand slipped into Hermione’s and was tugging her towards the circle of stones.

Instead of thinking about whatever might come next, Hermione was thinking about how soft Narcissa’s hand was in her own and how beautiful she looked under the blanket of stars.

“Hermione, are you ready to begin?”

The blonde’s voice was quiet and smooth as it slithered over her skin. Hermione nodded and watched the witch intently. She was surprised to watch her remove her outer robes.

“Have you been listening, Hermione?”

Hermione nodded.

“Why aren’t you taking off your robes? As I explained, this ritual can only be done in the absence of clothing.”

Hermione felt her eyes get wide and her skin flush red.

“I know it will feel cold for a moment, but once we begin I assure you that you won’t notice it,” Narcissa said sounding shockingly reasonable.

Hermione found herself at the kind of crossroads she had never encountered before. She could admit she hadn’t been listening to a word Narcissa had said and keep her clothes on _or_ she could get naked and save face. Either way she went, the ritual still had to be executed that night, so the likelihood of getting out of it was quite slim. She swallowed hard and started to remove her own clothing. Once she finished, she found that she was unable to raise her eyes from the ground.

“I’m afraid that you will be required to look at me at some point,” Narcissa interrupted sounding frustrated.

Hermione fisted her hands, took a deep breath before lifting her eyes. The shimmering pale skin of the witch made her look otherworldly. She could have sworn she stood before a goddess.

“Come here,” Narcissa said firmly but quietly.

Hermione followed the instructions immediately and took the cool hand.

“Close your eyes,” the blonde said. “Can you feel my magic?”

“Yes. Its warm and smooth. It smells like lilac and vanilla,” Hermione said breathlessly.

“Good. Just relax and let me guide you,” Narcissa’s voice was gentle and close to her ear.

The chanted ancient words that slipped from her lips relaxed Hermione and she barely reacted to the soft body pressed against her from behind. Instead she melted into the arms circling her.

“Give me control of your magic,” the blond urged running her hands soothingly along Hermione’s sides.

When lips kissed her neck, Hermione gave in to the request and felt her magic flare in response. Connecting with Narcissa’s magic was like fire dancing through her veins. She allowed the blonde to guide their magic and move her hands across her body.

“Give in to me, Hermione,” Narcissa said as her fingers closed over hard nipples. “Feel the magic. The ancient magicks demand a joining.”

“Fuck,” Hermione squeaked finally understanding why Narcissa had demanded she accompany her.

Narcissa seemed to take the single word as the impetus to continue. She pushed Hermione against one of the larger henges and kissed her senseless. The cool rough stone at her back only further encouraged her to rut against the slender leg. She could feel her own wetness against Narcissa’s leg as the chanting restarted with greater intensity. It felt as though their magic was pooling in her clit, which was dragging across Narcissa’s silky skin with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Come, Hermione,” Narcissa’s voice sounded in her head.

The pleasure of a monstrous climax washed over her.

* * *

Hermione didn’t know how she came to be lying on a soft robe curled up against Narcissa’s warm body. But she couldn’t will herself to move away. She lifted her left hand to touch the body next to her when she caught sight of her ring finger.

“Narcissa, what is on my hand,” she asked too exhausted to will her body to move.

“Physical embodiment of our bond,” Narcissa said and kissed her temple. “The ancient magicks could either be soothed by a life sacrifice or a soul bond between two powerful witches. Is this not the choice you would have preferred?”

Hermione pressed her lips against pale skin and closed her eyes.

“I can’t imagine not preferring you, but can we move to a bed,” Hermione asked brushing her lips against soft skin.

Narcissa chuckled darkly.

“We can, but I will be taking my bond privileges again,” she hissed.

Hermione nodded and wondered where in the job description for Minister of Magic this particular situation was discussed.


	5. Trial and Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last short for Gina. Its late, but rather sweet.

Hermione hadn’t been looking forward to the tremendously long series of trials after Voldemort fell. It wasn’t that she lacked a sense of justice. But the war had been complicated and when it finally ended, it dawned on her that she had just witnessed a civil war. It was more complex than a great good fighting a great evil. Nothing in war was so clear cut.

She knew for there to be peace and reconciliation, certain loose ends would have to be tied up. So she willingly took her place in the series of trials as was her civic duty. Minerva was kind enough to allow her to continue in her studies during the evenings and little downtime provided. She would at least not lose another year of time.

The trial of Bellatrix Black (her husband sadly did not survive) was the trial she was looking forward to the least. Until this trial, Hermione had played a fairly small part. She had a few times confirmed the testimony or location of others. But this time, she knew she would be unavoidably central.Few of the dark witch’s victims were capable of testifying, which made her feel even more compelled.

Hermione did her best to steel her nerves as the witch walked into the courtroom. She knew she wouldn’t look like the wanted posters anymore. Azkaban was beyond damaged and most prisoners were being kept under an elaborate home confinement scheme. Bellatrix was being kept with Narcissa at their home of their sister, Andromeda Tonks. From what Hermione had heard, the two had been incredibly boring. Narcissa had happily taken up helping to care for Teddy. Bellatrix had been tinkering with muggle items as she was wandless. In retrospect, Hermione would see this as the first sign things were not as they had seemed.

Bellatrix walked regally into the courtroom. Hermione was struck by her beauty. This woman looked infinitely more healthy than even the last time she had seen her. In fact, if Hermione hadn’t known it was Bellatrix, she might have thought it was Andromeda. The wild look was gone from her eyes. Her posture was controlled, even relaxed. She seemed at peace in ways Hermione would not have thought the dark witch capable of.

Hermione was doing her deep breathing exercises when the members of the Wizagamot filled the courtroom. Kingsley was the last to enter. There was something off, but Hermione couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. She had her wand securely in her palm and was ready to jump up at any moment. He took a long pause before raising his wand to his throat.

“Witches and Wizards of the Wizagamot, ladies and gentlemen. We are here today to publicly recognize the work of Bellatrix Black on behalf of the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable during the last 30 years. Her deceptions and actions during the war were sacrifices made for the greater good. While I, as Minister of Magic, understand this is hard for many of you to believe, it would be disingenuous of the Ministry to punish one of our most valuable agents for her service.” He paused to look specifically at Bellatrix. “Bellatrix Black, you are pardoned of all actions you took in the Ministry’s service. We thank you for your dedication.”

Hermione watched in disbelief as an auror handed back the crooked wand that she had once used to access the witch’s vault. But what made Hermione’s head spin was that the rest of the room was not reacting as though the news was unusual. She spied Harry and Ron sitting among their auror peers. As Kingsley had turned to the next topic, so had their attention.

The only other person in the entire room who seemed aware of her distress was Bellatrix herself. After the attention had turned away from Bellatrix, dark eyes had nearly immediately found the young witch.

Hermione felt her anger rising at recognition from the one person she did not want it from. The entire situation was entirely absurd. She had intentionally kept what happened at Malfoy Manor quiet and thankfully the press had not found out about it. It was disappointing that the boys with the emotional range of teaspoons had not gained any emotional intelligence over the last few months. Though it was perhaps not terribly surprising.

Not wanting to draw any additional unwanted attention to herself, Hermione rose slowly and made her way out of the oddly shaped room. It had been months since she had felt this level of imbalance and she only knew of one thing that would make her feel better immediately. In the weeks just after the final battle, there had been plenty of opportunity to fire off spells and let of steam. The only thing that would quell the rising anger in her gut was destroying things.

Once cleared of the room and the crowds of people, Hermione took off at a run. She knew that this was the most publicized day of trials and it was unlikely that there would be many outside of that section of the ministry. She ran towards the Hall of Prophecies. She knew very well the state it was in and that they had not yet taken the time to rebuild it. The months haunting the ministry were well worth knowing where the short cuts were in a moment like this. She ran as hard as she had that night. The enemy she was running from felt just as real, thought she knew it was mostly in her head this time.

When she skidded through the door and let it slam behind her, she felt vaguely like she could breath again. She hadn’t been aware of how much it had felt like the walls were closing in on her. She looked around at the significant destruction that reminded her of more innocent days. She had been surprised when she stumbled across the room a month before only to discover that it had never been recovered. The puppet ministry hadn’t seen any use in the room, since the only prophecy Voldemort wanted had been destroyed. In that one room time had stood still.

Hermione walked deeper into the room before pulling her wand. While she didn’t expect anyone would find her, she didn’t want to stay right by the entrance either. The still and quiet room was as creepy as she remembered even without the presence of the death eaters. She raised her wand and let a barrage of spells flow from the tip. She let her body move in concert with her magic. She was fighting imaginary enemies, the kinds that haunted her at night. The exertion felt good and the violence was a kind of bliss that she had been missing. Her body was heating up and the endorphins were finally hitting her. The sheen of sweat felt good as a breeze brushed against her.

“Well, well what do we have here?”

The voice from behind her was familiar and yet so different. It was lower and more controlled. But it shook Hermione to her core. She spun wand raised to face the witch.

“I hadn’t expected to find you destroying Ministry property,” Bellatrix said sounding contemplative. Her wand was in her hand, but her arm was still at her side.

“And why would you care,” Hermione snapped. She didn’t really want to be in the same city as the witch, much less the same room.

“Well, as a Ministry employee, I am obliged to ensure the safety of the ministry,” the dark witch continued.

“You,” Hermione growled and advanced on the witch. “You do _not_ get to tell me what to do.” She only stopped when the tip of her wand rested beneath the witch’s chin.

“Do it then,” Bellatrix said still relaxed. “I can feel your anger. Do it.”

Hermione froze angrily. She wanted a fight not a surrender.

“Fuck you,” she growled. “You don’t get to be self righteous. Its insulting enough that just happened in open court and that you have your wand back.”

“I shouldn’t be proud of helping end the biggest threat on the wizarding world since Grindewald,”Bellatrix said calmly. She still did not raise her arm, nor did she move away. She _allowed_ Hermione to keep the tip of her wand pressing threateningly against the soft skin of her neck.

“Your _work_ is carved into my skin,” Hermione spat. “So forgive me for not rejoicing in your freedom and accolades.”

“So do something about it,” Bellatrix challenged. “I held you on the ground of my sister’s floor and I tortured you. I won’t demean you and tell you that I didn’t mean it. I had been undercover for over a decade. Those years in Azkaban were not fake.”

The dark witch lifted her hair slowly, showing the tattoo on her neck. Rationally, Hermione understood the level of trauma that was being displayed in the small gesture. Year upon year of being starved and haunted by dementors, but even that evidence wasn’t enough to quell her anger.

“Crucio,” Hermione gritted out.

She watched in distress as the dark witch barely strained under the spell.

“You have to mean it,” Bellatrix forced out with some apparent effort, but she did not go down.

Hermione pushed harder against the feelings.

“Come on, girl,” Bellatrix growled. “Feel it from here.”

She gently placed one hand on Hermione’s stomach. Hermione didn’t flinch away from the touch and attempted to push into the feeling. But the warmth of the palm felt like it was sinking into her skin. The distraction caused her to release her magic.

“Surely you are not giving up so easily,” Bellatrix taunted quietly. “You want me to suffer, now is your chance. And you had better take it, because once we walk outside of this room I will fight back if you attack me. You want to feel strong, then take the power back from me.”

Hermione could not call her magic, even with anger simmering in her gut. It left her with only one option to silence the infuriating woman. She pushed her body closer to the brunette and harshly claimed her lips. Initially, she was relieved that it did effectively shut the woman up, but soon became lost in the kiss. Bellatrix was all too willing of a participant. And could she kiss.

“Fuck you,” Hermione growled when they broke for breath.The witch had no right to be so seductive.

“Go right ahead,” Bellatrix chuckled. Everything about her demeanor suggested that she didn’t actually think that Hermione was up to it.

Hermione lowered her wand enough to fire off a spell that sent Bellatrix flying. The dark witch landed with soft thud. She still did not brandish her wand as Hermione approached her. Wand still in hand, Hermione straddled her in a pose that mirrored their first encounter.

“Powerful and intoxicating, isn’t it,” Bellatrix purred.

Hermione took a deep breath.

“You understand now. I’m no saint, but power over another is the most tempting magic on Earth. Oh, little witch. You _like_ it don’t you.”

Hermione looked deeply into the calm dark eyes unable to deny the truth of it. She felt that _power_ flowing through her and found she had no desire to change their positions.

“Its alright, love,” Bellatrix soothed. “Do what you like with me. I can feel what you want.”

Hermione leaned down closer to the prone witch below her, wanting nothing more than for her to shut up. She watched an intake of breath that would no doubt lead to another string of words that she wanted nothing to do with. Looking for anything to stop that from happening, Hermione hastily pressed her lips to the red ones below her’s.

She was surprised when the mouth beneath her’s softened and engaged with the kiss. It was so different than kissing Ron had been. It was sheer insanity, but as Bellatrix reached up to hold their faces closer, Hermione couldn’t find a reason to stop it. She let the gentle exploration continue until she desperately needed breath.

Hermione kept her eyes closed, but remained pressed closely to the warm body. She lowered her head until her nose was filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon.

“This is a terrible idea,” Bellatrix whispered, but didn’t move aside from her fingers in Hermione’s hair.

“Yea,” Hermione sighed.

Bellatrix turned her head and gently pressed their lips together.

“You don’t mind terribly, do you,” Hermione mumbled against her lips.

“Not enough to mention, but your friends will not understand,” Bellatrix said gently.

“Apparently, you are a war hero,” Hermione mumbled.

“There are many things that would have to be discussed,” the dark witch said stiffening in Hermione’s arms.

Hermione reconnected their lips tentatively, relaxing into a connection that she didn’t quite understand.

“I have time,” she said shyly.

“Do you, indeed? Well, I suppose its settled then. Are you going to let me up?”

“Hmm. I might consider it. Are you going to make me go back into the trials,” Hermione asked sounding small.

“No. I hate bureaucrats. I had rather thought you might not object to coming over to mine for tea.”

“With your sisters as well?”

“Yes. We are a bit of a packaged set. But I know Andy will be over the moon to see you.”

Hermione disentangled herself and stood, offering her hand to help the other witch to her feet. When finally back on her feet, Bellatrix did not release the arm. Instead with gentle finger tips she pushed up the sleeve to view the damage she had inflicted.

“Hold still,” she commanded.

Hermione watched as Bellatrix’s brow furrowed in concentration. She tensed until she felt the warm tingling magic skate across the skin of her arm. It was as intoxicating as anything Hermione had ever felt. She was nearly bereft when she felt the magic recede.

“There.” Bellatrix sounded out of breath. “Come along. My sisters will come looking for us soon and I, for one, would rather not explain.”


End file.
